Their GardenA Story by Lucas GrashaThe silence
seemed to make her smile. As stars reflected onto her face, he
gently caressed the side of her cheek, lifting away her mane of hair to reveal
her pale skin. Her skin seemed to radiate a blue tint; but only in the
slightest could he ever see this blue glow. It was as if her majesty was there
at the same time that it would fade from the confines of the real world. The
hair that so effortlessly flowed from her scalp seemed to want to take root in
the ground the same time that it seemed to want to suffocate him in the elegance
of the locks of black. They lay by the slow-moving river as
they spread themselves across the grass. Along the embankment, they felt the
safest. No one would ever guess that this place was their hiding spot. It was
so remote from the society of which they despised for the most part. They were
hidden among the cover of the trees, seemingly taken in by the Mother’s limbs
of wood and leaf to hide away from the civilization. The woes of the world were
taken away by the gaze of one another and the calming sound of the water making
its slow journey down the trench by which it had once flowed with great might.
At some points, he wondered what that roar would have sounded like. He asked
his companion about it, and she wondered the same. As expected, they would
speculate about the roar of the river. At a certain time, they would lie on
their backs and gaze at the stars and the black-blue canvas of the cosmos. They
loved the grandeur of the simple pleasure. It was amazing how such a beautiful
thing could hover right over the heads of people, and it would go largely
unnoticed. They had an appreciation for the simple beauty of nature that few
other people seemed to have. It was something that they shared in common, among
the plethora of traits that they did share. They loved to spend their nights in
this hideaway. Not to be there to do what would have been expected of them, but
just to share their company, something that was sacred to them. They needed not
the label of pair or couple or ‘soon to be betrothed’, they only needed the
simple need of having each other as company. By his thinking at least, he
thought they could teach the world a few things, only if that world was willing
to listen. The two of them could teach the world what true love is; it wasn’t
what is proposed in the theatre or on the cinema screen, but what should truly
lie in the feelings. The way that love should be something, not branded any
specific name, or given any undue pressure, but something that was meant to be
pure and honest. Not an object, but a state of being where you feel that you
are inseparable from the person whom you have such strong emotions for. But, as they would expect, the morning
would come and wake them from their peaceful slumbers. He always expected
himself to act as a Guardian, holding her in a protective embrace; one of which
he loved to hold her in. In that embrace, he would hold her secure, but softly;
just enough to let her know that he would not for a moment think of leaving
her, but give her warm skin to feel comfortable upon. She would never object, since
she saw him as her Guardian. They would lead themselves out of the forest, not
needing to hold each other’s hands, but seemingly having electricity flowing
between them that left them with a sense of togetherness. And at the edge of
the forest, where society began again, they would walk to their hall of
education, only to return back to their sacred place during their sacred night. It was during the night in their
part of the forest that she broke away from the normal conversations. “I remember back when I slept in my
house that there was this garden my neighbors owned.” She said. “I always
thought that it was beautiful. It had so many roses and daffodils, tulips,
flowers of any kind…the bushes and the pathways would complement the vines and
the flowers in a way that I can’t really describe. It was all so beautiful. I wish
I had a garden like that…” “We could.” He said as he smiled.
They gazed at each other and shared in their shown joy. “We could make a garden?” She asked. “Of course we could.” He said. “It
would have those beautiful pathways and bushes that you talk about, but those
paths would stretch on and on, off into the distance. And flowers, massive beds
of flowers, roses, tulips, lavender, daffodils, would be spread all across
these places. And there would be rolling hills with the greenest grass that you’ve
ever seen. And residing with the hills would be parts of forests where rivers
lie and cut through the landscape, but in such a fashion that makes the most
experienced of stone carvers jealous.” “And there would be a gazebo, with a
pond and a fountain in the middle of it.” “Well, only of course; and what
about swans in the pond? They are quite majestic birds.” “Yes, they would be there. Oh, and there
would always be stars above our garden; as if the night we love so much were to
never end.” “And there would be a perpetually
setting sun with its dusk seemingly approaching fast upon it?” “Yes.” “That garden would be beautiful.” “I would want to be there all of the
time.” “And I would be there with you.” “And it would be the best place in
the world.” “We know that it would.” They gazed at each other for a
little longer and smiled a bit more about this fantasy of theirs. How amazing
it would be, they thought as they stared at the stars and fell asleep. In their sleep, they met in this
garden that they had talked about. Every single little detail that they had thought
of was in place; the swans, the dusk, the flowers, the hills, the trees, the
river, the vines…it was all there. And it was all beautiful. They were
enthralled and ecstatic about their dream and enjoyed the scent of the flowers,
the feel of the grass between their feet, they played hide-and-seek in the
forests, and walked along the paths that they cherished. They then saw their gazebo. Lights
had been strung around the railings and hung from parts of the ceiling to light
the floor. He took her hand. “Now we dance.” He smiled as he said
this, and she nodded her head yes in
reply. They hurried toward the gazebo and assumed a slow-dance position. “We don’t have any music.” She said. “Who says we don’t?” He said. She
was confused by this, but then she heard the swans singing. Their melodies were
perfect and seemed to be like a natural orchestra. As they were far beyond happy, they
danced to the Swan Songs. The next morning they were expected
to have returned, but they did not. A search party comprised of a few off-duty
police officers and friends of the two sent themselves out to find the two
people. The party went to every place that they expected the two of them to be,
and picked a deserted patch of forest as a last attempt to find them before
concluding that they had most likely run away. But in that patch of forest, the
search party found some strange things. The dirt around the area had been
disturbed in a very strange matter, and two slightly large stones were placed
next to each other as they stuck out from the ground, and a vine spread between
the two stones. What was most odd was the swan
feather found between these two stones. Swans weren’t native to that area. © 2011 Lucas GrashaReviews
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StatsAuthorLucas GrashaPittsburgh, PAAboutI've chosen in life to use the pen in place of the sword; or rather, the giving in place of giving up. I believe that I do possess a talent, but that opinion is only mine; if you would please (if you .. more..Writing
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